Armored
by Avariel600
Summary: A Casavir ficlet. Okay, so I caved and started writing one. This is mostly for fun, so let it not be said that I'm no longer a rabid Bishop fangirl, because I am. :
1. The Sparring Match

_Casavir _

Khelgar landed on his backside once again, dust clouding around him. He then proceeded to moan miserably and fall onto his side, clutching said extremety in both hands.

She laughed, standing up out of her fighting crouch to walk over to him. "Are you all right?"

"Nay, lass, I think ye've broken me arse!" He was moaning so piteously that one of the clerics observing the bout was snickering quietly to himself.

I watched with no small amount of amusement as the young half-elf tried to convince Khelgar that yes, he could stand up. No, his spine wasn't going to break; it had stayed strong so far, while supporting that enormous ale-belly gut he had grown over the years, yes?

The observing cleric had to turn his head discreetly to the side; his shoulders were shaking suspiciously.

Ceadra smiled down at the dwarf; she pressed her palms flat against the side of her thighs, and bowed as he stood up, finally. "You're getting much better, Khelgar. I know it's hard to get used to..."

"Heh. I ain't complainin' about the beatings, lass, but by the gods...just give me backside a break, will you?"

"That appears to be what she was doing, my friend," I offered from where I leaned against the keep walls. Ceadra chuckled, but Khelgar glowered at me. "Ye've got a sense of humor now, do ye paladin? Why don't you come down here and try it!"

Ceadra wiped her brow, giving me an appraising look. "Aye, you can if you want to. I'm thinking my _student _here needs a break." Her dark eyes flicked over to where Khelgar was taking very ginger, bow-legged steps to where the cleric awaited. I saw her bite her lip furiously, a traitorous smile inching it's way across her mouth.

I frowned at her thoughtfully. The idea had intruiged me, before, as I had watched the woman train with Khelgar when the dwarf had first decided to become a monk. Seeing Ceadra fight, all legs and grace and silence, was definately an experience that would quell anyone's desire to accept her offer. But...she was my friend. The long roads we had spent, talking and speculating...and mostly laughing...together had made an easy, comfortable alliance between the two of us, and she seemed genuine in her offer, those dark eyes of her's gazing at me intently. I spread my arms wide, my voice echoing the teasing note that had entered into most of our conversations, as of late. "You don't mind a full sized opponent, my lady?"

"I don't mind, no. _You _might mind, because you'll have to dispense with those...accoutrements you love to bury yourself in." She grinned wickedly, gesturing to my plate armor. _ Ah...the old argument. _ She had begged me to forgo my armor after a particularly nasty fight in the Duskwood, when a stray kick caught me a glancing blow on my heavily plated shoulder and had nearly knocked me onto my back. It had also broken her foot; she cursed me for near a full minute while Elanee had healed it for her, and then had started laughing after I answered her request with, "My Lady, I'll need it even more now; to protect me from my enemies, and from you, if I ever incur your wrath." I had checked my shoulder that night when we had decamped; she had raised a welt nearly the size of my fist.

Now, I merely smiled at her. "I'll remove it, Lady...if you promise to pull your kicks."

"Trust me, that won't save ye," muttered Khelgar from somewhere off to the left. Her grin widened, but she nodded at me peaceably.

I stood, and began unbuckling the full plate that normally encased my body. She watched me unabashedly, stretching her long-limbs; I felt a heat creeping in my face, and was somewhat confused by the intensity of her gaze, but stoically bore her eyes on me until the last piece of equipment fell into the pile with a clatter. I turned and walked towards her, in my boots and plainclothes.

"Very well. Now remember, no death blows." She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. But I still have to go through all the rules, or Hin will tell on me." She jerked a thumb at the cleric, who smiled brightly, the paragon of innocence. Ceadra continued; "Also, if either one of us has the other in a hold, you _must _tap when the pain becomes too unbearable. No trying to be macho; Khelgar's already broken his arm twice because he didn't tap when he was supposed to." Her eyes flicked over to the dwarf irritably; Khlegar grinned. "And lastly, no fighting dirty, not today."

"You hardly have to remind me of that, my lady."

"Aye, you're such a _clean _little fighter." She smiled wryly. "Ready?"

I nodded. She bowed to me, and for a moment her face was obscured by a curtain of sandy brown hair as her ponytail fell forward. It made me smile, slightly; I had always admired the respect with which she dealt all those in battle, to her enemies. There was not a battle we had fought together, that I hadn't seen her perform that same, quick bow after our foes had lain dead at her feet.

When she straightened, her face had changed; suddenly, she seemed entirely focused on me, her features still, her body rippling with tensed energy. Shadows and light danced across her scarred face as we began circling around each other. As I stared into those incessantly dark eyes, trained unerringly on me, I began to wonder if this was such a good idea...

In the blink of an eye, a foot was flying towards my face. My hand seemed to throw itself up without my brain telling it to, blocking the kick, but almost instantly, her closed fist rammed itself into my stomach. I sucked in my breath sharply as she danced away. She wasn't kidding around...

I'll admit I had _multiple_ qualms about hitting her, myself; for the first few minutes, I merely blocked her attacks, but there were many that snuck past my guard, and soon various parts of my body were throbbing in protest. I paced back from her for a moment, and I saw a triumphant flash in her eyes as she closed in after me, pressing the advantage. She brought her knee high, and immediately, my arm went up to block the on-coming kick...and then her foot swept low, and I felt the ground shift from underneath me. There was momentary weightlessness, and then the ground met me once more, in the form of the flat, hard surface that smacked into my back.

My breath left my lungs in a painful whoosh, and I reacted without really thinking. Her dainty, deadly foot was still hooked around my ankle, and I scissored my legs, sharp and fast while twisting my body. Chivalry, it seemed, was momentarily forgotten. She hit the ground with an audible _thud_, and instanty I was on top of her, heaving for my lost breath while pinning her arms down. I must have looked as surprised as I felt, for her large, dark eyes filled with delighted amusement, and for a moment her serene focus was broken as she smiled up at me; I could nearly count every one of the small, faint scars that traced her face, see every individual lash that feathered her eyes.

My heart gave an unfamiliar wrench, and my breath seemed lost once more. By the gods...she was _beautiful_...

And my breath really _was _gone; while I had been staring down at her, her legs had wrapped themselves around my chest, and were now squeezing with such crushing strength that I thought I heard my ribs creacking; I lifted my hands to pry her free of me, and instantly a small, sharply bony fist smacked into my left eye with a resounding _pop! _ Even as I jerked back, her legs gave another unrelenting squeeze, and I sighed inwardly in resignation before tapping the ground with the flat of my hand.

She released me, and I collapsed onto the ground next to her. Khelgar was laughing uproariously as we both gasped for breath.

"Not bad, for a knight," she managed between lungfuls.

"My lady is...too kind," I wheezed, and, still sprawled in the dirt, she began laughing, as she usually did when her adrenaline began wearing off. She had a hearty, deep-bellied laugh that made my mouth twitch upward in response; how come I had never noticed her laugh before?

I rose to my feet unsteadily, extending an arm to pull her up. She took it, grattitude in her eyes; when she looked up at me, she winced. "Your eye already looks like ripe fruit; I'll heal it for you." Her hand was reaching up to my face, and I nearly jerked away from her. I was remembering her face below mine on the ground, the racing of my heart as she had smiled up at me in pride and delight. Suddenly, the thought of having her touch me was unbearable.

"No! That is...no," I murmered. "Thank you, my lady, for taking the time to instruct me; but I can attend to my own wounds." She was staring at me, confusion scattered across her face. But, she didn't question me; she merely pressed her palms flat against her thighs, and bowed, her long tail of hair flashing in the sun as it fell over her face.

I picked up my armor and practically fled.


	2. Revelation

_Ceadra_

I was ticking the numbers off in my head; four-hundred ninety seven shadows, three-hundred and two bugbears, ninety bandits, fifty four skeletons, twelve vampires, a handful of thieves, and one very dead Shadow Reaver.

It had been a long, long few weeks. I wasn't even going to begin counting the orcs.

I had just delivered a "rousing" speech to the men with Kana nearly holding me at sword-point to do it. The problem of the Shadow Reavers had seemed to be an impossible one, until today. The True Name had worked, and we had nearly all died in the process, so I wasn't exactly in Captain mood when we returned victorious to the keep. But, the men had been worried about us...about me...and Kana said I owed it to them to tell them what happened. She said this through clenched teeth, with a look in her eyes that said _If you ever leave me alone and in charge here during tax time again, I'll kill you._

Now, I trudged through the Keep's front doors, weary to the bone; everyone else had left while I was postulating on our heroic efforts, and no doubt they were all safe in their beds (where I soon would be.) As I passed through the main throne room, I heard crisp, determined bootsteps echoing off the flagstones behind me, and swore violently to myself while almost simultaneously asking Lathander for his pardon. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see Kana's shadow lengthening along the wall as she headed inexorably in my direction. Panicking, I pressed my finger to my lips, glancing meaningfully at the guards standing around, before I took off, running silently across the room and down one of the hallways.

I ducked around the corner, listening. I heard Kana's footsteps clop clop clop across the throne room, and then her succinctly irritated voice ask, "Corporal! Did you see Knight Captain Ceadra walk through here?"

_I swear, if you tell her, I'll put you on privy duty for a month... _mingled in my head with..._ Please, oh merciful Morning Lord, save me from mine enemies..._

"No, Ma'am! We didn't see her come this way at all, Ma'am!"

_Whew._

"That's odd, Corporal. I could have sworn I saw her walk into the Keep...did she dissappear once she passed the threshold?" Kana's voice was acidic.

"Possibly an...invisibility spell, Ma'am!"

I smothered a snicker into my sleeve. _That man is getting promoted._

I could _hear _the icy glare that Kana gave the young man, but her next words sent a chill through _me_. "Very well. I'll simply look for her myself."

_Oh crap._

I turned, and skittered down the hallway as those boots began _clop clop clopping _towards the corner I was hiding behind. Think, think...I sprinted down the hall, knocking quietly but furiously on the first door I came to. _Gods, hurry up_...I fidgeted madly, hearing Kana's steps getting closer, and then the door opened a crack. I didn't even give whoever it was a chance, I merely sucked in my breath and squeezed inside, throwing myself under the bed against the far wall. "_Hide _me!" I hissed.

There was a confused pause where all I could hear is my own shaky breathing in the dark space unde the bed, and then relief flooded through me as Casavir's voice rumbled by the doorway. "Lieutenant Kana is trying to make you read the week's reports, I take it?"

"Please!"

"Anything for you, my lady." His voice was wry with amusement, and he turned as the _clop clop clop_ of Kana's boots came to a stop in front of his door.

"Have you seen the Knight Captain, Sir Casavir? I need to discuss a few important matters with her as soon as possible, and she seems to have...escaped my notice."

"I _have _seen her, Lieutenant Kana," said the paladin, and my eyes widened in shock. _Why, of all the..._."She ran down this hallway a few moments ago; she seemed in quite a hurry." _Oh, clever man._ "Was it something extremely urgent? I could help you look."

I bit my lip furiously, laughter bubbling in my throat as Kana replied, admiration in her voice, "Thank you, but no, Sir Casavir." She snorted ruefully. "I wish my _troops _had the same gracious attitude as you. I'm sorry to bother you; have a good evening." And she continued on down the hall, her footsteps fading into the distance.

I heard the door shut and let my breath out in a thunderous sigh of relief. "That woman will be the death of me."

"In all honesty, my Lady, you _will _have to speak with her eventually."

I felt my irritation rise, and stuck my head out from under the bed to tell him that reports could wait until the morning, duty be damned...only the words never escaped my lips.

Casavir was standing by the door, arms crossed in front of his chest...his _bare _chest...in only trousers and boots. His armor was arranged neatly on the armor rack in the corner, weapons laid out at the foot of the bed. What was covered by day in full plate was revealed in the lamplight to be hardened, scarred, and well-muscled. My eyes seemed to move of their own volition across his chest, down the front of his rippled abdomen and..._No. Stop right there_.

The words I meant to say stuck in my throat, and instead I uttered "Gulp?"

He arched a brow at me, an unreadable look in his piercing blue eyes. "Are you all right, my lady?"

I noticed he had gauze in his hand; some of it was wrapped inexpertly around his shoulder, and the hap-hazard bandage was stained with blood. I shook myself out of my wide-eyed stare (un-Captain like, I know...but my _gods_...) and the next time I tried to speak was more successful. "Are you hurt? I thought Zhjaeve healed everyone..."

"She did; it's a minor wound, and it wasn't worth expending the last of our magic over."

I crawled out from under the bed, and brushed myself down, quirking an eyebrow at him in amusement. "It looks a little...um...crooked..."

He chuckled. "While I can tie off bandages with the best of them, my lady, doing it one-handed is a little beyond me." He began fumbling with the knot, and my leader instincts (what little of them I actually had) kicked in. I stepped forward and brushed his hands away impatiently. "Sit down and let me do this; you're worse than a drunken bugbear trying to weave a tapestry."

He seemed to hestiate for a moment, and then he complied, not meeting my eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed and wordlessly handed me the roll of guaze, which I began tearing into strips. I was trying very hard not to let my eyes wander; my fingers worked deftly, and I winced slightly as I peeled the useless bandage back away from the wound. "You should have let her heal you," I said gently.

"I'm fine, my lady," he said; his voice was just as quiet as mine, and I kept my eyes down on my work, wrapping the guaze around his shoulder snugly. My fingers were prickling pleasantly from brushing against his skin, and an unfamiliar awareness of how close he actually was to me was slowly creeping over me. I had bandaged him up before, of course; I had done the same with most of my companions at one point or another. But the heat rolling off of his bare skin near inches from mine washed over me in a dizzying wave until I was as light-headed as if I'd drunk too much wine. I carefully tied off the knot and tucked the ends under, smoothing it down, and it was then that I met his eyes...

There was a softness there, and at the same time such a burning intensity that my heart started pounding erratically, though I couldn't have said why. My hands were itching to touch him again, and I fumbled with the left-over guaze uneasily, wanting desperately to bolt out the door...and desperately wanting to stay, too. I felt his arm rise from where it had rested on his knee, barely brushing the back of my elbow with his fingertips, and my skin shivered in response. I looked down into his face, frozen where I stood, a multitude of sensation rushing through me as his caress rose up my arm.

His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse, throaty, barely above a whisper. "Ceadra...I..."

_THUNK THUNK THUNK!_

I nearly jumped a foot in the air; Casavir snatched his hand back as a voice snapped through the doorway, "Jump to it, _paladin_. The old sage has finally figured something out, and_ requests _our presence in the library." Bishop didn't wait for a response, but stalked off down the hallway on the other side of the closed door. My breath escaped my lungs in a whoosh, as if I'd been holding it this whole time. Well, maybe I had...

"We should go," I said quickly, stepping back and turning towards the door. I couldn't look at him, couldn't watch as he stood and moved back to where his armor waited, ready once more to cover that exquisitely carved torso...

When he entered the library a while later, the last one to arrive, he was fully armored once again, an expression of blank concern etched on his face as he heard what Aldanon had to say to us.

I hoped I looked the same, for all I could think of were his fingers trailing across my skin...


	3. The walk

_Casavir_

She walked ahead of us, Grobnar dancing around her and playing the most nonsensical song I'd ever heard. We were all staggered along the road in some sort of formation, making slow but steady progress, and for the moment, the only thing surrounding us was the warm air and the smell of the trees, our weary feet crunching the fall leaves that scattered the path. The gnome's search for the Wendersnaven had ended in vain (which didn't surprise me in the slightest), but the complete unimportance of our quest sat easily on my heart. There was no urgency, no dread, no fear; a slight skirmish with a few orcs, but most of the trip had been uneventful, and it had left all of our spirits lighter than they had been in weeks.

She was laughing, now, as Grobnar cavorted around her in a small circle, clapping her hands every now and again in time with his music. My eyes were drawn to her time and again, watching as the breeze played with her long ponytail of hair, following the curve of her hips down to her calves as she walked. The strange, growing warmth that spread through me when she was in my sight was one I recognized; I was no innocent fool to such feelings. But she was so unlike the women of the court that had hounded me in my youth...they had been polished, manicured, graceful, their long gowns and painted smiles near perfect in flawless symmetry. I had learned to courteously endure the flirtatious teasing, the coy smiles, the suggestive undertones to otherwise perfectly innocent conversation; "Such are the ways of noble women," my mentor had told me. "And the ways of most women, come to think of that."

There had been exceptions, of course; there were the women that had fought, had bled, and had died alongside their men at Old Owl Well to protect their homes. There was nothing flirtatious about the way they had called me "Sir," or the way they had lost their lives under my command. And Katriona had more than proven herself as an able-sergeant and a quick-thinking soldier. I had respected her strength and devotion, honored her friendship.

_But you didn't stare at her legs while she walked in front of you._

I blinked, and looked at something else, musing uneasily to myself. Yes, and then there is _her_. The young, half-elven monk was quick-witted, loud, spirited; she could knock most men's heads off their shoulders with a well-aimed kick. Where the women of the court were painted and perfect, her face was covered in faint scars, her dark eyes large and honest, completely without deception. She laughed, often and unrestrainedly. She was kind, and tender; I let my breath out in a slow exhale as I remembered the gentle touch of her fingers on my skin so few nights ago. The easy friendship that we had enjoyed before that night was now colored at the edges with a glowing red heat, and I felt it every time she walked near me. We kept careful distance from each other around the others, but I would catch myself watching her lips as she would speak; and every now and again, I would feel her eyes on me, following my movements when she thought I didn't notice.

As if reading my thoughts, she glanced back, catching my eye momentarily; color flushed through her cheeks and she smiled, before turning back to the road and Grobnar's antics. I felt my mouth twitch upwards in response...just as I caught sight of Bishop's face. He glanced at me coldly, his eyes narrowed; with a near imperceptible curl of his lip, he turned, and walked swiftly up to where Ceadra led the formation, casually falling into step beside her. I saw her pace catch a moment, her face surprised...but then she was laughing at something he said, and they were talking quietly as they continued to walk along.

My hand clenched into a fist, red mist coloring the edges of my vision. Ah, jealousy reared it's ugly head, I have to admit; but I grit my teeth, smothering my anger with the observation that, while Bishop's smile was snide, suggestive, and that he walked closer to her than I would have liked, her expression was mildly polite, and she made no move to reciprocate his body language.

Still...

_Wouldn't hurt to mention something to her later, perhaps..._

o o o o o o

_Ceadra_

Kana finally left, and I sank back into the enormous, elaborate throne that had been placed on the dias in the middle of the room. It was a hideous piece of furniture and I almost never used it, except for those times when Kana would go on, and on, and _on_, until my bones creaked whenever I shifted my weight and I had to succumb to the force of gravity. I had a hand over my eyes, and almost didn't hear the creak of metal armor until he was directly in front of me.

I jumped, my eyes flying open as his shadow fell over me. Looking up, I felt my smile grow of it's own accord; the glow from the torches skittered across his face momentarily, light and shadow warring across his chiseled features, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in response as he looked down at me. My voice, when it came, sounded downright shy. "Hello."

"May I speak with you a moment, my lady?" Ah, the ever formal 'my lady' was back...the moment when he had spoken my name so many nights ago had knocked the walls down around my brain, leaving images in my head of his hands trailing over my body, his lips on mine, my fingers sinking into his thick, black hair. _Ceadra_. It had chilled me to the bone and set a fire in my blood, all at the same time.

And now, we were back to 'my lady.' Sometimes, I just wanted to kick him...

Sighing inwardly, I nodded at him, pushing myself up onto my feet. "Do you mind if we walk while we talk? I've been in this room all afternoon, and it's been driving me mad." I stretched, wincing as I heard random joints throughout my body _pop! _in protest.

"I don't mind at all." And he offered his elbow to me, patiently waiting. My mouth curled up again in an involuntary smile as I slipped my arm through his_. And they say chivalry is dead. This reminds me of those fairy tales Rhetta used to tell me._

_In all fairness, to make this a fairy tale, you should be wearing an elaborate gown or somesuch, instead of trews. And the world should not be about to end_. _ But if it was, _he_ should be the one about to save it, not you._

_Stop grinning like an idiot and listen to what he's saying! _

I snapped into focus. "...concerned," he was saying, leading me along the walls outside. The breeze felt good, albeit a little cold, and I tightened my grip on his arm, sidling a little closer as the chill cut through my thin robes. He glanced at me, but continued. "I do not like the way he...looks at you, and I do not trust his intentions."

It took me a moment for my brain to catch up, and when it did, I stopped, looking up at him incredulously. "What, _Bishop_? Why are you concerned about him?"

He seemed a little taken aback, and fumbled to recollect himself. "I...it's none of my affair who you choose to speak with, after all, but I merely felt that I should...warn you."

I arched a brow at him, but my voice was amused. "And why would you feel that?"

He shook his head, trying to brush it off, to pull me onward and continue our walk together. "Forgive me for speaking of it. It isn't important."

"Casavir."

Ah, this use of first names was a powerful thing, with him. Or maybe it was the tenderness in my voice that I hadn't really meant to have there, and yet it came out anyway. When he looked back down at me again, his gaze was no longer cool and informally concerned...sapphire flames licked in his eyes, and the raw longing in them was so stark, so unshielded, that I nearly stepped back from him for fear of being burned.

"My lady," he said, his voice near a whisper, "you make light of me."

"I do not," I said, quietly. "What reason would I have to? Bishop is nothing you should worry about."

"Truly?" His voice was cold, but his eyes...gods, I could feel the fire catching inside of me, raging along my veins, sending my heartbeat hammering against my ribs. "Regardless, I shall ensure that nothing _distracts _you from your mission. I know my duty, my lady."

I couldn't stand it anymore. "To the hells with your duty," I said, my voice hoarse, and gripped the collar of his breastplate, lifting myself onto my toes; in one smooth, satisfying movement, I pressed my lips against his mouth, which opened in surprise under the hungry probing of my tongue.

In half a heartbeat, the tables turned; suddenly, he practically growled against my lips, and his arms encircled my waist, lifting me off my feet. In two steps, I was pushed somewhat roughly against the wall of the keep, his kiss descending on me fiercely, arms encircling my waist so tightly that I was near crushed against the plate armor he wore. My head was reeling against such a passionate onslaught, and I sucked my breath in sharply as one of his hands trailed up my spine to the back of my head, tilting it back so that his lips would find purchase against the soft skin of my neck...

"Ceadra," he whispered raggedly as his lips found the edge of my slightly pointed ear. _Oh no, please not there..._ "My gods...how I've wanted..."

I didn't get to hear whatever he wanted, because we both froze as the sound of rapidly approaching, heavily metalled footsteps broke into the near silence of the night. He pulled away from me, and there must have been sheer murder in my eyes, because when the guard turned the corner and caught sight of us, he flinched back as I stepped forward.

"What do you _want_?" I practically snarled.

"Captain, they've taken Highcliff! Lieutenant Kana needs you down in the War room, immediately!"

I was seething, but some level of clear-headedness was returning to me. _Go to the hells, you bloodsucking little interloper, I'm busy! _ I wanted to scream at him. My mouth, the traitor, said, "Fine! I'll be down shortly."

The guard ran for his life.

"Damn it!" I kicked the wall, and then realized that my foot vs. solid granite was an unfair match-up. "Ouch!"

Casavir began laughing. He continued on, for near a solid minute, as I nursed my aching foot and glared at him narrowly. _He does have a wonderful laugh_, I thought to myself.

_You're not exactly an unbiased observer._

"My lady," he said when he finally caught his breath, and my eyes, once more. He came to me, the back of his hand trailing up my cheek. "Ceadra," he said softly. I waited for a heart-stopping moment, and then, instead of speaking, his lips lightly brushed against mine, and I felt all the little hairs on my body stand on end in response. He pulled back, and brushed my hair away from my face, before dropping his hand. "Come, Captain. We have somewhere to be." He practically grinned at me, and then held out his elbow, all courtly formality once more.

I took it, walking as if in a daze, allowing him to lead me down to the belly of the Keep. _When this war is over, I'm firing all the guards._


	4. Confession

_He watched them both, at the other end of the table, his thoughts dark and turbulent. He had been observing them where they sat across from each other, dining with the others after having returned from destroying the bridges, exhultant with victory. Laughter, music, and hopeful talk filled the hall to it's rafters, and the cook had gone all out, preparing a feast in Ceadra's honor. He had barely tasted it. Now, the half-elf in question was laughing at something Khelgar had said, and the paladin was frozen in mid-motion while reaching for his goblet, looking at her with near naked longing in his eyes. He scowled; it was written all over his face, the fool. And Ceadra didn't even seem to notice it; more the fool him, to to be led around by his nose by a woman who didn't even realize that he was in love with her._

_And then he caught her glancing over at Casavir, a smile creeping across her face; something brilliant and burning shined in her eyes, so bright that it was painful to look at; he had never seen such a thing in her eyes before. Or in the eyes of any woman, for that matter._

And why should you? No woman has ever looked at _you_ like that, before

_He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together as he watched the paladin lean across the table, his hand over hers; he whispered something into her ear and after a moment she nodded. They rose, and laughingly waved off the wolf-whistles and shouts of encouragement from the soldiers as they made their way across the room, disappearing together into a passageway that led up to the battlements. A elbow nudged him sharply in the ribs, and he was snapped out of his reverie by Neeshka's voice in his ear, sitting next to him. "Where do you think they're going?_

_He frowned. _Where, indeed?

o o o o o o

_Ceadra_

The air was crisp and cold, a shock compared to the relative warmth of the dining hall. Casavir stood away from me, staring out over the wall, and I contented myself with my own warmth, for now; I was sharply remembering the last time we were on these walls, merely a night ago, and a torrent of conflicted feelings were raging through me. Was he going to apologize? Kiss me again? Tell me he doesn't have feelings for me? Throw me over the walls?

_ Paranoid, are we?_

"There's death on the air, this night," he said, his face turned away from me.

Well. That wasn't what I expected. I kept my voice lightly teasing, but my heart hammered nervously in my chest. "_You_ sound calm, despite it. I'm glad one of us is."

He looked at me then, smiling; the bittersweet tenderness in his eyes pierced me to the bone, and I was frozen under his gaze as I watched the moonlight play across his features. "There's nothing that could touch me in your presence, my lady." And then, sweet Morning Lord, his arms went around me; he had forgone the plate armor earlier, and my hands slid up as he pulled me close, pressing lightly against his chest, feeling the tensed mucles underneath the fabric of his shirt. My mind's eye still gleefully held the image of his bare torso so many nights ago, and I could feel the heat creeping into my face as I looked up at him.

His hand trailed up my back, fingers sinking into my loose hair and brushing it back from my face and shoulders. He didn't quite meet my eyes. "There is something that I need to tell you, before the battle is joined again. I...I need to thank you, Ceadra." He smiled, but his eyes were sad. "I was so terribly...weakened, when we first met. I went to the Well to die, die honorably; despair had become my way of life." I shivered as those fingers traced the slightly sharpened tip of my ear, slid down along my cheek, trailed across my lips. "I remember one of the first things you said to me, when I asked you about Lathander's teachings..."

He had been nearly mocking when he asked it, questioning my joyful obedience to my faith; he had seen a young, foolish woman, naive in her acceptance, while _he_ had learned better through loss and hardship. The raw cynicism dripping in his voice had been enough to tell me that. My lips quirked in a smile as I stared up at him, now. "I said that every day was a chance for a new beginning. A second, third, fiftieth chance, if you needed it." My smile widened. "Your face was priceless; you looked as if you'd swallowed a toad."

He chuckled, his chest rumbling pleasantly underneath the touch of my hands. "You shocked me. It seemed too simple, and yet...I have learned it is profoundly true, and such a truth coming from the lips of a woman so untested...you shamed me, that day, shamed me into realizing that I was the cause of my own pain, nothing else."

Then, the arm around my waist tightened, and his lips brushed against my forehead. When he spoke next, his voice was near a whisper, hoarse with restrained desire. "You shine so brightly to me, Ceadra..." The sensual feel of his lips trailed across my eyes and down the bridge of my nose. "...and there is nothing, in this life or the next, that can stand between us." And then his mouth hovered over mine in a tantalizing non-kiss; my blood rushed through me in a raging torrent when his words came again, soft and sweet and broken with emotion. "I've loved you since the day you stood under that brilliant sun, shaming me with the truth and with your kindness." Sorrow, joy, passion, laughter, fear; all weaved together in the undercurrents of his voice as he whispered against my lips. "My heart, if you would have it, is yours."

What words could I have thought of to answer him? There is no language in the worlds that is intended for such things; my arms slid up from his chest and found the smooth, tensed muscles at the back of his neck, pulling his lips down that scarce half inch to meet my own. My mouth opened welcomingly under his, and for a moment there was nothing but clean crisp smell of him, the feel of silk as my fingers sank into his thick black hair, his chest pressed firmly against mine. His hands gripped me tightly, the heat from his body permeating around me in a wave, familiar and exciting all at once; and with a panicked, joyful pang, I realized that I loved him too.

His kiss was quickly turning into something more, and I inhaled sharply, fingers digging into the back of his neck as his lips found the sensitive tip of my ear. "That's not fair," I whispered, and he chuckled, the sound of his voice rippling through me and twisting my insides into a knot. _That tears it._ "You know," I said, trying to keep my voice calm (which was difficult, considering the location the paladin was now exploring with his mouth), "my chambers are a lot warmer then out here."

He laughed then, with such exhultant joy in his voice that my heart near broke itself, thudding wildly at the sound of it. His hands slid around my waist, and before I could utter a protest, I was lifted up and over his shoulder, slung face down as he began walking into the keep.

"Put me down!" I whispered furiously, giggling incessantly.

"I remember the last time, when my lady nearly broke her foot against the battlements." He had a hand on the back of my thigh, steadying me as he walked through the abandoned halls, and it's warm pressure was making me wish he'd walk a little faster. "I must make sure that she does not hurt herself again."

I was laughing outright when he finally kicked open the door to my suite. "Are you going to carry me everywhere, then?"

"No, my lady." He shut the door behind him, and then I was being dropped backwards onto my own bed; almost instantly, his body was hovering over mine, and his hands were working the knots of my robes with very un-paladinlike speed. He began kissing my neck, whispering, "If I carried you, I'd be unable to watch you walk; a pass time I've grown extremely fond of, recently."

I was laughing intermittedly after that, the raw happiness filling me until I thought I'd burst with it. A long while later, when we lay spent, his arm holding me snugly against his chest, I wriggled an arm free and touched my face.

I felt a wetness on my cheeks, and realized I'd been crying, too.


End file.
